Chapter Thirty-three

OLLIE

Once Archer had got me into bed, covers drawn up with my arm outside them and a pillow wedged against my back so I didn't roll over onto my shoulder in my sleep, he turned off the overhead light and climbed into bed beside me.

In the softer light cast by the bedside lamp, I saw the lines on his face had deepened.

"You know it's not your fault, what Chris did."

"If I'd thrown him out all those years ago, it would never have happened."

It was too much to hope he wouldn't find some way to blame himself. "What about now? What happens next?"

"He's expelled from the family." Archer's tone was uncompromising. "I'm going to speak to the rest of the family before I make it official and ensure they know why."

"What happens to a dragon who's been thrown out of their family?" I asked. The thought of being alone and away from other dragons made me cold inside.

"I don't know, and right now, I don't care." He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "He hurt you, and he should count himself lucky he's still alive."

"He was going to kill you." And suddenly, my voice wavered. I'd held it together until now. Adrenaline, perhaps. But what had so nearly happened to Archer and what had happened to me… Somewhere deep inside me was quivering with shock.

"He would have, if not for you." Archer was up on one elbow, studying me. "I don't know how I can thank you for that, but at the same time…" He closed his eyes, and I heard the unevenness in his deep breaths, matching my own. "God, Ollie— you could have been killed. Promise me you'll never do anything that stupid again."

My breath caught. "You think I was stupid?" I asked, only just controlling my voice.

"Not you. What you did. There's a difference."

"There isn't." I had to get out of here, away from him. I shoved the pillow onto the floor and climbed out of bed. "I'm going to sleep in my room."

"Ollie?" He stood up, and I backed away.

"I mean it, Archer. I want to be alone." To curl up and cry.

"Why—what—"I saw him working backwards through our conversation as he still blocked my exit. His shoulders sagged and he wound his hand in his hair, tugging at it.

"What you did wasn't stupid," he said. "It was incredibly brave. But you only needed to do it— " He hesitated, and sighed. "You needed to do it because I failed ." His eyes were dark as he looked at me again. "Easier to blame you than to accept my failings, I suppose." He rubbed a hand over his face, something I was growing to hate because he only did it when he was upset.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," he said. "I'm so sorry that I made you feel bad. It's—it's not easy to accept that you had to save me, but that isn't an excuse for what I said."

I could see he meant it. But it still hurt, so much. "Everyone thinks I'm stupid. Especially compared to my brothers." I hadn't meant to say it, but it came tumbling out. "To hear it from you…"

He didn't say anything, and that was it. My humiliation was complete.

"Ollie, please." He touched my good arm when I pushed past him, not grabbing, not commanding, but asking. "You're not stupid. You're the furthest thing from stupid I know."

I couldn't look at him. Didn't want to hear his weak attempt to reassure me. I knew what I was. I knew what everyone thought. And maybe sometimes I played up to it, but it was easier that way, pretending I didn't care, that I was just good old Ollie.

"You can read a room in a millisecond, and you know exactly what to say to make every person in that room feel good about themselves. They leave happier than they arrived after talking to you. And you can see patterns that the rest of us don't notice. You spotted Mortimer's moves immediately. And…" He hesitated. "You showed me how to reach Tim again."

His voice was deep and sure as he said, "You are not stupid, Ollie. I don't know what your brothers are like, but I can't believe they've got a fraction of your intelligence."

If only he knew. But then I realised, it didn't matter that he didn't know. What mattered was that he believed what he was saying. And, though I couldn't quite credit it, he did seem to believe it. Like Mia had said, Archer didn't do flattery. If he thought I was stupid, he'd have told me that he loved me despite that.

My eyes felt damp, but there was a smile somewhere deep inside as I looked at him. "Did you hit your head during that fight?"

He laughed, and went to draw me close. "Damn," he said. "How can I hold you without hurting you?"

We got back into bed and figured it out. He lay in front of me, the pillow once more at my back, and I laid my burned arm over him. My arm hurt, and my insides were still churning as we lay looking at one another, but I knew that he loved me.

ARCHER

I needed Ollie to know how I treasured him and that I'd never intended to imply he was stupid. Imply it? I'd outright said it, and I should have thought.

It was clear he believed himself to be inferior to his brothers. I wondered how much of the way Ollie presented himself was due to that deep-seated inferiority complex. His excitement and optimism were integral parts of his personality, but perhaps the reason he let them out so easily without a filter was to distract from the rest of who he was. To be the clown, so that no one would look for anything else and possibly find him wanting.

God knew, I hadn't looked deeper at first. I'd taken him at face value. And now I had to make up for the hurt I'd just caused.

"I need to tell you something," I said to him, and his eyes flared with alarm. Whoever had made him so uncertain deserved to be flamed. "It's about my treasure." Despite myself, I drew a couple of deep breaths before continuing. My treasure was incredibly personal. Only Tim and Mia knew what it was, and I'd never thought I'd tell anyone else. "It's copper," I said to him. "Copper, like the copper dragon I treasure."

His eyes were sparkling. "Me?" he said disbelievingly.

"You're the only copper dragon in my bed," I pointed out. But that was old Archer, not the person Ollie had shown me how to be. "And in my heart." Okay, that was too open. Not to mention, it made me cringe.

But not Ollie, it seemed. His face lit up with joy bright enough to rival the sun.

"I treasure you," he told me, and for the first time, I saw shyness in him. It was the most profound and intimate declaration of feelings a dragon could make, and it set something in me free, something that made me shivery yet joyous inside.

We kissed, and for that moment, nothing else mattered. There was only Ollie and how much I loved him.